truly broken
by This.person.can't.write
Summary: what would happen if everyone you cared about died. when everything reminds you of them. rated T- warnings inside


**AN: I'm alive... Yay I guess... So just warning you, it's a bit dark but hey what ever.**

**if you don't like it say, if you do say! ^_^ **

**WARNING: dark themes ahead (you've been warned)**

**Disclaimer - if I did it wouldn't be a kids show. **

**PS... I wrote this on my iPad so...**

Danny wasn't getting enough sleep or food or anything for that matter. He was messed up. God how he knew he was messed up. He wanted to sleep, damn he really did, he would give anything to lay his aching body onto his bed; every time he closed his eyes he could see his parents body's scattered aimlessly around their lab. Experiment went wrong. And guess what, it was all his fault. All his fault, no one else's but his. The police told him not to go in there; they restrained him. But of course restraining meant nothing to Danny Phantom. And that's how he found it. They were building a Fenton Phantom catcher. The Fenton Phantom CATCHER blew up. BANG. In their concentrated faces.

Danny could not eat. Why should he though. He could still see that horrified look on both Sam's and Tucker's faces when the nasty burger blew up. They were walking out of it. Laughing, being alive. Danny could hear a sharp whistle but he choose to ignore it. They could have been alive. Why did he have to be such a failure.

He wore black now. He's seen to much red. Dash makes him sick. Red so much red. He can't look at the A-listers now without wanting to curl up and die. They ask him what's wrong. Even dash was concerned. They not meant to care. No one should care. God damn no one! But they would back away. No one wants him, no one wants him, no one wants him. They would run off. Run away, run, run, run away, run from the big bad wolf.

He didn't smile. His smile was blown up with his family and friends. It no longer exists. Like his family. He doesn't know how to. Do your know how to? He wants to smile. But his lips are sown together, bleeding stretching, ripping, it's so painful. So painful he wants it to stop. Please stop, why won't the pain stop? Can you make the pain go away. Please.

He likes his new canvas. It's his and only his. Only for his eyes to see. Only his to admire. Only he can graciously carve wild lines into his canvas. He supposes the colour red isn't that bad. Red makes him feel. Makes him feel alive. It's his painting, locked behind fabric. The naughts and crosses that he plays on them. He always looses. He looses everything. He looses everything but they scar. On his mind on his skin. He doesn't like this game of naughts and crosses on the canvas so he does subtraction on it instead.

He's lost. Lost in the deep dark, thoughts. Lies and truth twisted together like weeds. Reality and fantasy rotting into one big mess. Everything is black, his mind, his slow beating heart. His clothes, his future.

He doesn't like the colour black, he wants purple, he wants green, he wants orange and blue! He needs them. Needs. He's so lost without them, walking through the darkness with no candle or guide, black, black, black.

He wants to laugh. Laugh at everyone faces, grin until the thread has ripped through the delicate pink skin. He wants to scream at everyone. Scream until his vocal cords rip out of his throat. Scream until he can feel, SEE, blood pouring out of his mouth. He wants to giggle, giggle at everyone's horror as he rips himself to shreds.

He likes his canvas now, it's a beautiful mess. Just like him. Chaos, crosses, naughts . So beautiful. He can't help but admire it, reds such a beautiful colour, so vibrant and wild against the plain white canvas. He likes it so much he's going to sign it. So he does, right at the top of the canvas in red pen, a neat line to represent all that he is, nothing, just a flat boring line.

He goes to sleep now. He smiles knowing he won't wake up, his stomach doesn't feel empty any more. Just pure blissful, blinding pain. He giggles, he screams and laughs, the canvas he tried so hard to conceal now on display. His mind was closing in on him and the darkness attacks. He's scared now. He wants to wake up.

"Let me wake up. I'm scared. Please let me wake up, wake up, wake up, I need to wake up I miss mummy, daddy, jazzy I miss you wake up, I want to wake up…"


End file.
